When you think about dancing you might think about the classic films of Dirty Dancing or Footloose, you might think about it being sexy or romantic, or maybe in-time and rhythmic, but what about embarrassing dancing?
But what about the forgotten bedroom dancers, the kitchen dancers and the in-the-mirror dancers?
They are the ones who represent the real letting go of your worries and shaking it loose. They are the ones who lose it to any and every Mamma Mia song. They just haven’t yet realised that these moments of erratic dancing and excitement is the backbone of happiness and joy within them.
Psych- She writer, Charlotte Stokes, leant into the whys behind dancing being our forgotten key to joy.
I don’t know about you, but I have absolutely no rhythm, no dance ability and my song requests can get rather rogue on the dance floor (Man! I feel like a woman- Shania Twain) but I’ve never felt more happy than when I’m throwing my arms in the air and swaying to the songs of my adolescence with my friends in our student living room.
But I want to know why spinning on my tallest tiptoes and shimmying in unison with my friends brings me a glow like no other.
Why do me and my girlfriends do the sprinkler and a chicken dance-off in the middle of a busy club only stopping to laugh out loud at our hilarious attempts at scaring off men.
It’s a reflex, like a jig or an outburst at the most random moments but not something with style or any technique, but it makes me feel so uplifted.
But it isn’t just me.
Dancing makes joy break out on my grandma’s face when her favourite record comes on, it’s in my dad’s shameless moonwalk as he celebrates City’s win against United and it’s my best friend’s strut as she attempts a Coyote Ugly in a bar in town.
All these moments of twirling with my favourite people trigger precious memories and send immense amounts of endorphins to my brain even when I’m outside of the moment or years later.
Dance school owner, Carol, offered her best advice to those who don’t dance daily: “Letting the joy dictate your movement will give you a sense of freedom.
“If I have any advice, it’s that you have to push yourself even when you’re feeling low, to turn the music on and dance.
“In the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the daylight or when no one can see you. Let the joy dictate your movement and enjoy the freedom. It has to be said, there is something so uplifting about it and it’s even better when you can enjoy it with other people.”
It sounded so natural for a dance teacher to offer these pearls of wisdom, but not everyone who dances are dancers. I thought if I could do it, anyone could.
That led on to my first interaction with a real dance class that scared the shit out of me and made me realise just how terrible I was when I was partnered with a salsa dancer who left with 2 blue shins.
I cannot stress that if you dance outside of your kitchen and take the plunge to a class, the depths and complexities of some routines will have you mortifyingly bopping around whilst making uncomfortable eye contact with yourself in the mirrors.
Once it was all over and I regained a normal colour to my skin (and the embarrassment started to wear off), I realised how uplifted my mood was. I had a smile plastered to my face and almost revelled in the fact I was the worst in the room because I felt part of the group.
I watched new friendships blossom after the class as we bonded with our partners over the intimate routine (whilst my partner spent the time just laughing about his black-and-blue shins that he promised me weren’t as bad as they looked.)
The way they taught me to swing my hips, forget who else is in the room and spin without being dizzy now has me doing it in the street, down the corridors and in the coffee line.
Of course, I still worry if people think I’m a little weird or drunk with my clear lack of hand-eye coordination, but why the hell are we not normalising a jig for our mental health?
I know for a fact that my mum and her friends broke our garden furniture by dancing on the table last summer and they’ve never recalled that story without belly-laughing about how much fun they had dancing to ABBA, even after noise complaints.
To solidify the evidence we have that dance really is invaluable to our mental health, Hazel Bryce, Occupational Therapist from SYEDA, spoke to Psych-She about using dance and movement as the main form of recovery to achieve a healthy mindset.
“When people are mentally struggling, it’s usually because there’s a gap somewhere.
She added: “Something as simple as dancing which reminds us of our childhood can be crucial for happiness and the most important thing is that you can laugh whilst doing it.
“It also helps you sleep and it’s about connection. Intuitively it’s good for us to do something for ourselves.”
The ability to let go, feel relieved and maybe take your first deep breath of the day (granted, it’s because the stretching has me doubled over knackered) has monumental effect on our physical health, but also on our mental health as we temporarily forget our stresses and worries, even if it’s for the 3 min 54 seconds of Man! I Feel Like A Woman and that is something no long run, no stair master or heavy squat has ever done for me.
Carol reflected on her 60 year career as a dance teacher: “The delight it’s brought young children, the relief it brings parents and the release of those teenage girls who are in the most difficult stage of their life has me stuck in this profession. I couldn’t be anywhere else.
“I could write a book from the years of stories and lives dancing has changed, and that’s not me, that’s dancing.
“The youngest class I have is full of 3 year olds and one of the mothers stopped me after a fun class one Saturday morning with an odd request…” and no, it wasn’t to teach her kids Shania Twain’s music video choreography, unfortunately.
“She was a teacher in a nearby school and asked me to come into her class and do a dance session with her kids.
“I just laughed in her face. Her kids are 14, they don’t want to be doing animal role play and holding hands in a circle but her response had my eyes welling up.”
The mother and teacher responded honestly with: “I need my class to experience joy and I know you can unlock that.”
There it is, the power of dance, in every single age bracket of humans.
I’ve been dancing with my friends since I could walk but I hadn’t realised until recently (specifically until last week when I got dumped) when my girls dragged me to the bar that I could literally dance away my sadness and bring myself up from a 2 to a 10 in seconds.
Trust me, dancing was the last thing I wanted to do after feeling so down, but as we got there and we held hands, spinning in circles and miming the lyrics to one another I realised that actually, I felt like I could survive the storm if I had a dance each day.
I know that sounds dramatic but there are some feelings in this world, some events and moments when you don’t think you will survive, but when I started to dance with my girls whilst showing off our best (to an outsider it looked as if we were show casing our worst move) I knew that I was going to be fine.
So since those intense and exposing dance lessons, the chats with old dance teachers and healthcare professionals I’ve been trying it out myself. Every single day.
Whether it’s a shoulder bop whilst cooking breakfast, or a skip from the sofa to the fridge for the 5th snack of the evening, I’ve decided to dance it all away. The stress, the heaviness of worry, the embarrassment and the sadness.
I’m going to allow my body to uplift itself not just when I’m with my friends, but when I’m standing alone in a queue, sitting in the park or with my mum in the kitchen.
I’m pledging to myself that I have a boogie when brushing my teeth in the morning and I really think you should try to do the same too.
Expert insight: Hazel Bryce
An occupational therapist working for SYEDA (South Yorkshire Eating Disorder Association) with young people by conducting assessments, guiding them through coping mechanisms and introducing new strategies to recover.
